


Stay With Me

by EverythingStucky197



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Confessions, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Nick Fury, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2019-11-07 11:06:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17959313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverythingStucky197/pseuds/EverythingStucky197
Summary: When Elizabeth Black (bastard child of Sirius Black) moves to the States to escape the nightmares and PTSD remaining from the the wizarding war and her job, she didn't expect to find a place she would end up considering home.That is until Nick Fury knocks on her door and asks for her to help SHIELD in the only way she knows how; fighting.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank my beta reader so much because the input I get from them is really making me think out everything and reevaluate a lot of things and I am blessed with them.  
> [ Jackdaws](https://jackdaws45.tumblr.com/) is totally awesome.
> 
> Say hi to me on my [ tumblr](https://everythingstucky.tumblr.com/) and share love on our two Brooklyn boys who deserved better than what Endgame gave them.

"So, do you want to maybe get some coffee sometime? Or tea, if that's more your thing?"

Izzy looked at the guy sitting on her bed as she emerged, freshly clothed from her shower, barely hiding the grimace when she saw him still here. Last night's memory coming back to her in snippets. Scowling inwardly at her own drunk idiocy in bringing home men, she frowned at his hopeful look, hoping to make this as quick as possible.  _ This is going to be an uncomfortable situation, _ she thought.

"Umm, Jim right?" Izzy asked awkwardly, she took a wild leap on his name. He looked like a Jim to her. 

"It's Michael," he said with a grimace.

_ Well, it's not like it could get worse. At least he's partially dressed. _

"Right. Listen, Michael," Izzy pushed through, her face burning red, "last night was,  _ memorable _ ," she threw his shirt at him from near her feet, "and you seem like a lovely bloke, but I don't do the morning after coffee.  _ Or tea _ ," she continued, grabbing his shoes from the floor while pushing him out of her room, towards the kitchen. "It was lovely meeting you, but I think you should be on your way." She opened the door, giving him a smile as a goodbye.

"But I thought we had something last night?" his face betrayed the hurt he was feeling and Izzy pulled at the end of her hair uncomfortably.

"Wankered me has something with almost anyone. Anything actually," she explained, hoping to be rid of him quickly. "Don't take it personally, mate."

"Umm, okay?" he said as she nudged him out the door, leaving it slightly ajar. "You sure you don't want to get something to eat maybe, Izzy?"

"I'm good, thank you. Goodbye now," she closed the door, her back hitting it as she slid down. "I thought American boys weren't supposed to get attached," she muttered. "Never again am I drinking anything."

She sighed, stood up and walked towards the kitchen, turning on her coffee maker as she opened the fridge for milk. She had gotten accustomed to the caffeinated drink but needed to put half a gallon of milk in it to make it bearable enough for her to swallow. Hearing a knock at the door, she frowned, leaving her coffee.  _  For Merlin’s sake, can’t he take a hint! _

When the knock came again, Izzy rolled her eyes, and stomped off to open the door, all her manners out the window..

"Did you  _ forget _ someth–" Her words died in her throat.

It wasn't last night's shag, but a different man standing outside instead. He was tall and dark, wearing a long, black leather jacket with an eyepatch over his left eye. The man gave her a small smile, a smirk more like it, and nodded at her.

"May I come in?" He asked her politely, but it was clear he expected to be let in, and it made her hair stand on end. 

"Who are you?" she asked, not in the mood for nonsense, pulling the door half closed and blocking his view past her. 

"Miss Black, it's about high time we met," the man said, his voice calm.

"I know who I am. I asked who you are," Izzy said, her hand curling behind her back.  _ Accio, _ her fingers closed around her wand as it arrived in her hand. She didn’t like the feeling she got in her gut, something was telling her that this man was more than he seemed. 

"Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD, Miss Black," he said. Izzy only raised an eyebrow in question.

"I've been in the States for years, and I've never heard that term before, and I've done extensive research on every American slang," Izzy told him, her wand hand hiding behind the door, ready in case the man tried something. She was trusting her instinct on this, too many mistakes before making sure she didn’t go ignoring it anymore. 

"It's not a slang, Miss Black. It's an acronym; stands for the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division," he told her with no small amount of pride, and making his presence seem larger despite standing casually away from her, relaxed even. 

"That's a mouthful," she observed, trying to appear relaxed as well.

"Hence why we call it SHIELD," he said. "I was hoping we could talk, Miss Black."

"Why do you need to talk to me?" Izzy asked, not completely comfortable with letting the man into her home. “I’m not really interested whatever you’re here for.”

"You will be, once you hear what I have to say. Now, if you’d let me in, I promise you no harm and you won’t need to use that wand of yours, Miss Black. I would very much appreciate not being jinxed," he tilted his head right at the spot where Izzy's wand was pointed at him through the door. “Or hexed.” He added as an afterthought. 

Izzy froze. She had been  _ extremely _ careful since her move to New York. She’d avoided using her magic anywhere, leaving her wand at home to the point her magic was bubbling under the surface and needed to be used. Yet she only used it in the bookstore she owned when alone or her apartment, but no one had suspected her of being a witch or anything of the like. The Ministry here had no qualms about her living here either, she just had to follow their rules, which weren't that different from England's.  That this man in front of her knew about her wand, let alone her magic, was frankly terrifying.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she answered, her poker face already in place, her hand clutching the wand so tightly, she was afraid it might snap.

"Miss Black–"

 "My name is Elizabeth." Izzy interrupted him. 

"I know Kingsley, Elizabeth," he said.

"You say that like it means something to me," she retorted, still not trusting the man in front of her.

"He told me you'd be here, and warned me you'd be a bit uncooperative–"

"I'm being uncooperative?" Izzy exclaimed, interrupting Fury once more.

"--unless I showed you this," he continued as if she hadn't interrupted him.

With a white knuckled grip around her wand, she watched him closely as he reached into his coat,  pulling a small golden orb out. She raised her eyebrows, unable to hide her disbelief.

"May I?" he said, offering her the orb.

Izzy reluctantly put her hand out, watching the snitch fall into it, immediately extending its wings to hover above her palm. She pursued her lips; she had left this in her vault, she and Harry being the only ones to have access. Izzy looked back at the mysterious man in front of her, her eyes betraying her curiosity. "How'd you get this?" 

"Like I said, Kingsley gave it to me. He knew you wouldn't just trust someone off the bat," he remarked.

"He broke into my vault, but sure, I have trust issues; and I never said I trusted you. This just made me less likely to hex you right now," she corrected him ; she’d be having a word with Harry after this though. "But I will allow you to enter for my curiosity’s sake." She moved aside, opening her door completely and motioned him in.

"Thank you," he nodded, and Izzy closed the door.

Fury glanced pointedly at her wand, which was lax in her hands right now and Izzy stuck it into the pocket of her pajama bottoms. She led him into her living room, watching him take a look around before standing in front of the windows that led out to the balcony. He  appeared relaxed but in the practiced way of loose limbs while remaining on high alert; she perched herself on the barstool, attempting but surely failing to achieve the same level of faux relaxation.

"So why are you here? What's so dire that you couldn't have anyone else, because if you know Shacklebolt like you say you do, I'm positive he would've offered you someone more substantial," she started. "I am also sure that he told you that I'm not of much help lately anyways, being an ex Auror and  _ retired _ ."

"I know what Kingsley knows, Elizabeth, what you’ve told everyone barring your close ones. I also know you've been practicing more wand-free magic lately, like your ancestors used to. That's makes you more powerful than any experienced Auror he had to offer me. Hell, makes you more powerful than almost any wizard and witch," Fury told her. “Tell me, why practice it now? Your government made it illegal decades ago, did it not?" 

"I don't owe you any answers, it's not me barging in on  _ your _ door," she retorted. "You still haven't answered my question,  _ Director _ . Why are you here?"

"SHIELD needs your help. We need your magic to help us," he said, taking a step closer to her. 

“My magic isn’t an item and  _ I’m _ not for sale," Izzy denied. "I don't work for Kingsley anymore, and I certainly won’t work for you. This world's already messed up as it is, and it doesn't need me helping it become worse." Izzy had gotten up at this point as well, taking their conversation to the kitchen. "And you don’t want me near your people doing magic, it’s not always safe. Coffee?" She offered him a mug.

"Agree to disagree, your magic is exactly what we need," he said. "It'll help us protect people." Fury took the mug from Izzy's hand, letting her consider his words as she poured for them both. “This could help change the world, Elizabeth, stop all those wars from happening.”

“Wars only happen because of men who think they’re better than everyone else throw tantrums when the world doesn’t revolve around them. I’ve spent most of my life cleaning up messes from those kind of men and I am done with it,” Izzy glared at him. “You want to change the world?  It’s time to make sure those men don’t end up in seats of power instead, Director.” 

“That’s what we’re trying to do at SHIELD,” Fury told her, still holding the cup loosely in his hand, his one eye imploring her to understand. “With your help, we could make sure they never even get in those positions to hurt the world.”

Izzy pursed her lips, studying the man in front of her intently, trying to understand the dedication he had in saving this world,  _ something you lost years ago _ . 

He continued to meet her stare without flinching, keeping it until Izzy herself moved it away, going for the milk to add to her coffee, to have her hands do something other than kick the man out in front of her. “How would you go about that, Director?” Izzy still kept her back to him, stirring the coffee slowly as she waited for him to answer her.

“We have our ways, but the baseline would be to wipe out the threat before they even existed,” he replied solemnly. 

“That sounds an awful lot like you’re playing executioner before the crime even takes place. Tell me, does SHIELD have a way of seeing what’s in the hearts of people or are you just guessing based on something foolheartedly? How do you know you won’t cause more mayhem and destruction in its stead?” She could feel the anger burning in her veins. “That makes you just as bad as those men. SHIELD would be just as bad.”

“Which is why we need you. Elizabeth–” Izzy scoffed, slamming her mug down on the counter before turning around – “you could help us make sure the way we have is better than that. Make sure we don’t hurt anyone innocent.” 

“Innocents always get hurt in war, always,” she muttered. “From what you’re telling me, SHIELD doesn’t particularly care about innocence or guilt.”

Fury  was staring at her again, and this time Izzy didn’t care, she wasn’t looking away. “I’m not going to help you destroy this world, Director.”

“Then help me save it. We need you, we need your knowledge and magic.” Fury kept his cool, even though he could see the anger vibrating through Izzy, and continued to implore her. “We’ll take care of what we have now, without hurting innocents from our end, protecting them as much as we’re capable of, because that’s what we do. That’s what you did too, leading your own army, training your own soldiers.”

“They were not soldiers, and they were not mine. We were fighting for our lives in a war we didn't ask for," she said furiously back, blinking back tears at the mention of the DA. "We were children and we were trying to protect ourselves because no one else would.”

“We will.  That’s what we’re here for. So others don’t go through what you did, so we don’t have more children fighting a war they didn’t ask for,” Fury said gently, not wanting to further aggravate.

“My answer is no,” Izzy said firmly. She couldn’t do it again, not after everything, not after it took her years to finally sleep through a night without screaming and short circuiting the neighborhood, not after it took her years to look in a mirror and not hate and blame the person staring back for existing, for causing so much harm. Not again. “I’ve already done my bit. I’m not fighting again.”

“Alright, what about a position in consulting?” Fury redirected instead. “You have knowledge and experience in war, as well as a whole different kind of world”– she scoffed, reaching back for her coffee– “that could be useful.”

“You don’t quit do you?” she sipped from her mug, her lips turning down at the tepid liquid. “I tell you no and you offer me a different position.”

Fury shrugged, his lips turning up in a smirk. “You said no to fighting, this would be purely talking and informational. It’ll be a desk job.”

“I already have a job, if your research didn’t tell you that,” she pointed out. 

“It did. Your bookstore is doing well, surprisingly, in Brooklyn. And tutoring at a high school, that’s… unexpected.”

“There’s only so long I can rely on my family’s money,” she shrugged, grabbing Fury’s cup along with hers.  _ Calidum _ she thought, watching the slight steam rise out of their mugs with a smile. “Plus, it gets boring sitting at home, I needed to do something.”

She hands Fury his mug and watches him stir a large amount of sugar into his coffee in silent judgement.

“That’s good stuff, imported?” Fury asked after taking a sip. 

“No clue, picked it up from the bodega two blocks down,” she took a large sip of hers, smiling at the warmth this time before giving Fury a small smirk. “And a little bit of magic never hurts the taste either.”

“Should’ve known. Giving thought to the position?” he asked, drinking easily. 

“I’ve said no and I’m not changing my mind. It’s not my fight,” she smiled ruefully at him, ignoring the small tug at her heart. She was done–  _ done _ . “I’m not a soldier anymore, or a fighter..You should ask Shacklebolt for someone else.” Fury thinned his lips, slowly nodding before taking a long drag from his mug. 

“I do have a query for you,” she began. “How did you learn about that? Me doing magic. No one knows I've been practicing magic, let alone wandless." Izzy sipped her coffee, her eyebrow raised in question as she stared at the man in her kitchen.

"I've been keeping my own tabs. Kingsley told me about you a year ago, not too much detail but enough for me to be interested and keep tabs. He told me that you of all people understand the lengths we go through to protect people and the world," Fury explained to her, giving her a significant look back and she averted her eyes. "I've watched and seen you do it, read a couple of books and figured it out. Your library is quite more extensive than I figured, didn't have all the answers, but enough to help me fill in the blanks."

"Hmm, impressive," she smiled into her mug. "So you had me tracked. You were good, I'll give you that. I had no idea."

"Well, you’re not the only person with a unique skill set that SHIELD’s interested in." He returned a small smile, “You’d be a good assist you know. I’ve kind of taken a liking to you.”

Izzy raised her eyebrows, unable to hide her surprise at Fury’s admission. She wasn’t expecting that kind of admission from the man in front of her, he didn’t seem like the type to say things like that to anyone or in general. “From a morning cup of coffee in my pajamas? You must not have high standards.”

“My standards are unreachable, but I’ve read enough about you and have heard quite a deal from Kingsley. Meeting you in person just confirmed my research.” Izzy felt her face get warm, and she hid her blush by turning around to put her empty mug in the sink . 

“You can’t butter me up to say yes, you know?” 

“I’m aware.”

"You know you could've refused if you didn't want the coffee?" she pointed at his still full mug. Maybe he and Moody were friends; that would explain their mutual paranoia. 

"Didn't think you'd appreciate it," Fury said, handing her the mug back, watching her pour it down the sink. “I like you, doesn’t mean I trust you.”

“That’s fair,” Izzy agreed. “Constant vigilance was something I learned as a child.”

 "Do you keep track of the news?" Fury switched the topic suddenly. 

"Here and there. Just to be aware of any threats to me," she shrugged, not understanding.

"What do you know about Tony Stark?" Fury asked, hoping she would know the man.

"You mean the billionaire scientist?" she questioned, unsure of why they were talking about him. "He’s intelligent, but a bit showy for my taste."

"Well, we’re interested in what he can bring in to SHIELD since his father helped start it, and maybe be a part of something called the Avengers Initiative," he told her.

"And you want me to join your initiative for intelligence?" she finished for him.

"I’d prefer you to lead the team."

"What?" Izzy was in shock. Lead? What the absolute fuck. “What the absolute fuck. Is that your plan for me?”

“Yes. I believe you would be perfectly capable of keeping in line all the agents I planned on recruiting for this.” Fury folded his hands behind his back as he stared her down, unflinching as Izzy glared at him incredulously. 

“No. I’m not going to lead anyone anywhere," Izzy declared, her voice shaking. She could feel her pulse beating hard and suddenly the kitchen felt too small for her. "No, fuck no."

"Alright, alright," Fury raised his hands, showing her that he meant no harm.

“Excuse me for a second," she mumbled as she walked away, slamming the bathroom door closed as she took deep breaths. She stared at her hands, the familiar blood stains appearing in front of her and she quickly started washing them, scrubbing until they hurt. Her breathing was erratic as panic took over and she saw the lights flicker and the water burst out with pressure. She flattened her palms on the marble with a smack, the remaining water splattering over and tried to remember what the damn spell was. “Fuck fuck fuck, mette– no _mit-_ _fuck_!” she watched as her hands started letting out small sparks, and she moved her hands away immediately, small fists in front of her instead. 

“Mitescere,” she stuttered out lowly, and waited as nothing happened, nothing changed. “Fuck, come  _ on _ .”  _ You can’t do it wandless if you keep relying on your wand to focus. Come  _ on! 

Stepping away, Izzy grabbed her wand and raised it as steadily as she could and focused to the best of her abilities. She knew she just wasn’t ready to do it yet, and muttered, " _ Mitescere _ ," watching the familiar silver wisps come out, stabilizing the room and her heartbeat, and she took in some deep breaths greedily.

She could not afford to lose her shit, not when there was someone, a muggle, in her home. Splashing her face with water, she grabbed the marble edge, her knuckles white and no longer bloody. She took a deep breath of relief, feeling her heartbeat slow and her breaths even out. It worked; but not how she wanted it. She glared at herself in the mirror, one of these days she was going to have to learn how to do it without her wand acting as her crutch. Today, it seemed was not that day. Shoving the wand away in her pocket, she turned away from the mirror. 

Steeling herself for the awkward conversation with Fury outside after this, she walked out, her back straight, head held high, and saw him staring at the things she put on the fridge. "I'm sorry," she spoke, waiting for him to turn to face her. “I appreciate the offer, but no.”

“Think about it,” Fury spoke, as if Izzy hadn’t just rejected the offer and she held back a deep sigh of irritation. 

“What did Kingsley tell you about me? Other than what you researched?" She curiously asked had to know where she stood with these people.

"Only that I couldn't go wrong with you and that he wishes you would come back," Fury said.

"You know I can look into your mind to find out if you're lying to me or not," she mentioned, hoping it would guarantee the truth; and she wasn't lying either. She could go into his mind, but it would be a big invasion of privacy.

"I am not, and I hope you'd understand enough about privacy to not go there," Fury mused, watching her with apprehension, his one eye squinting at her and she raised her hands in feigned innocence.

"I won't, but I make no promises of not doing it in the future. I don't like being lied to." Izzy had too much experience from her past that didn't allow her the pleasure of trust. She was not about to start anytime soon either.

"Let's cross that bridge when we get to it," he amended.

“Fair. Who else besides you knows?"

"I’ll be sending someone soon to talk to you about your consideration. Your secret is safe, Miss Black." Fury gave her one of his smile that was more of a smirk.

"I’d appreciate that.” she smiled. "And here I thought I would be sending you on your way with nothing but confusion." She joked with him, feeling a little less stressed. 

"We’ll be in touch," Fury said, walking out her front door, and she watched the door close behind him before locking it with a sigh.

It had been a hell of a morning, and she felt tense, bemused suddenly, like this was something she was waiting for but it wasn’t what she was supposed to do. She’d had a feeling, an itch ever since she settled down, and nothing she did could scratch it just right. Izzy was content with her life here so far, a small but good bookstore she ran and owned, some regular customers who’d become friends, and the few young teenagers who worked for her, who looked up to her. The small tutoring sessions she helped out with at the neighborhood high school (a job she in no way expected to actually do, but wasn’t as bad as she thought she’d be at it)

She was content, Brooklyn had given her the perspective, the freedom, that she had craved. After fighting for so long, she hadn’t been able to believe it was real for the first few months.  It existed for her and it wasn’t going away anytime soon. Yet, when she went home to the lifeless flat she had, Izzy had never felt more alone in her life. Maybe growing up at Hogwarts, with its constant noise and chatter, made her quiet flat seem more stark than it truly was, but Izzy didn’t think that was it. She missed her family, missed the laughter and the warmth that came with them. But England wasn’t home anymore and she had accepted that a long time ago, and going back to that place where she didn’t feel she belonged anymore would be the opposite of moving forward. Or at least that’s what she told her family, and herself. Izzy was lonely and out of place, and sometimes even the bustle of Brooklyn couldn’t fill that hole up. 

Maybe SHIELD would give her life a new purpose again, but she’s seen what happens when people from the government try to change the world for the ‘better’. She still has the scars to prove how far they’d go in the name of protection, and SHIELD didn’t seem all that different. Izzy also wasn’t really sold on the idea of punishing people before the crime, no matter how Fury tried to sell it. She didn’t believe for one second that her joining would change anything they had in mind, yet a part of her still yearned to help, still wanted to do good and fight again, but Izzy didn’t spend all that time running around the world to ‘find herself’ to not learn how to squash that feeling down. She fought her war, she wanted to rest and no matter how much SHIELD wanted her, she wasn’t going to join. She couldn’t. 

But who is she, if she doesn’t fight for others? It’s all she’s ever done and what she’s known for most of her life. She didn’t even hate it all the time, knowing that she was making a difference in the world, knowing that she was helping people, made her feel good about it. Maybe she did miss having a mission, or maybe she missed having people to rely on no matter what, but she wasn’t ready for any of that right now. 

Izzy let out a large sigh, feeling herself growing tense again and irritable. “So much for staying under the fucking radar. Fucking spies,” she muttered under her breath. Looks like she was going out tonight again. 


	2. Chapter 2

 "Why is this so fucking heavy!" Izzy grunted, pushing a box into her shop. 

She had walked in this morning at 7 am and found the box sitting in front of the backdoor of the book shop, which confused her; she hadn't ordered any shipment recently, and the normal deliveries came every first of the month. She sighed, feeling her head pound despite inhaling the coffee straight from the pot before she was even out the door, and started pushing the box once she figured out that picking it up was out of the question. 

Izzy was tired as shit; the last few weeks have been exhausting with the high school’s exams coming up soon and her bookstore getting an increase flow of customers. Izzy felt like she was being tugged into two different directions and it was draining all of her energy; and through it all she’s remained on edge from Fury’s promise of sending someone to check in with her for her answer. She hadn’t given it much thought since the initial meeting and after her drink-fest that night, she pushed it to the back of her brain like everything else _(and she was aware that it wasn’t the healthy way to cope with problems, Dr. McCoy, but she didn’t have the time to deal with it right now)_ and now, the _damned fucking_ _box_.

Giving it one final push, the box finally slid near the front desk, rucking up the ugly rug as it did. Izzy let out a string of curses and gave it a kick; which she shouldn’t have, but she was too damn tired to be lugging heavy shit without magic at ass o’clock in the morning.

Instead of dealing with it like the adult she claimed to be, she abandoned the box and the hideous rug in favor of tidying up the front and checking the front locks as she passed by it. There wasn’t much for her to do, taking the early Saturday shift from one of her employees who was somewhere for _something (she should really pay attention when they tell her this stuff)_ and started setting up for the day. She went around the store, her attention split between checking her emails from her students and work and getting the shelves and books all ready for the day, knowing she was stalling the inevitable opening of the damned box. She took the time to rearrange some games, and answer some emails back to the kids she tutored (‘ _No Caleb, you can’t do your final paper on the secret love affair of Stalin and Hitler, because it didn’t happen and makes no damn sense so don’t ask again. Stop taking pleasure in exasperating me’)_ Izzy finally got herself back to the front and sighed. Might as well do it while no one was around to watch her lose it. She yanked the rug away, pushing it behind the desk to deal with it later (hopefully throw it away) and bent to pick up the box. 

“What the fuck is in this damned thing, fucking rocks?” she huffed out when the box barely lifted from the ground. Izzy grabbed the edges again, putting her weight on the front of her toes and heaved it up to her knees before her arms gave out and it crashed on her foot. 

“Mother _fucker_! Merlin on _Christ, fucking shit_! Bloody mess of the _damned_ _box_ , fuck you! Fuck!” Izzy shouted, jumping with one foot in the air and leaned on the desk as she strongly glared at the box, feeling the corners of her eyes sting with tears. She collapses right next to it, furiously wiping at her eyes as she continued to stare at it, noticing for the first time the cramped handwriting crowded into the postage tag, and scooting herself closer to read: 

 

> _Izzy,_
> 
> _Hopefully you got this in time, sorry we couldn’t send the old fashioned way, your flat wasn’t wired for it. We missed you and Ron managed to convince me and Hermione to send it anyway and I’m gonna stop rambling here because there’s not enough space and there’s a letter in there too._
> 
> _Love you loads,_
> 
> _Harry_

 

Izzy stared at the small note for what seemed like an eternity but was only a few minutes when a knock on the door snapped her out of it. Standing up quickly, she straightened out her shirt, taking a quick glance at the clock and sighed. It was 8 already, she had a shop to open and a life to get to, she could deal with the damned box later. 

Despite her mood, she  couldn’t help but smile when she saw who had knocked on the door. 

“Mrs. Campbell, how are you this fine morning?” Izzy smiled, offering her arm to the grey-haired lady.

“I’m doing fine, English, just surprised the door wasn’t already unlocked. I thought maybe one of those young teenagers had forgotten,” Mrs. Campbell told her, walking inside with her grip strong on Izzy’s arm. “And how many times do I have to tell you, call me Angie.”

“Well, a lovely lady like you asks me so kindly, I can’t be rude now, can I?” Izzy grins, as Mrs. Campbell lets out a tinkling laugh, and lightly taps Izzy’s arm. 

“Such a charmer. If I weren’t already married, I’d have snatched you up already,” Angie jokes, her blue eyes twinkling, “That’s if I were a bit younger as well.”

“Are you kidding, Angie? Like I would let a gem like you pass by me, you’re a catch and I’d be honored to be your partner.” Izzy easily led her down to the seating area. “I’ll be right here waiting until the day you decide to leave Mr. Campbell. Now, what would you like to read today? Or do the kids usually bring you whatever they think is ‘hip’ these days? Honestly, those kids, I think I’m more comfortable around you than them.”

“You’re an old soul dear, and if you don’t mind me saying, it seems that soul has been through the ringer. Whatever those kids think as a big problem, you probably think is a bit frivolous, don’t you?” Angie gave her a small smile, and Izzy gave a tight one back. She hadn’t realized that she was so transparent, and as if sensing her uncertainty, Angie spoke again. “You remind me of my best friend sometimes, you know that? She was a fighter, too.”

“Now now, Angie, flattery will get you everywhere with me. So, have you read Narnia yet? I read it last week and it’s absolutely _magical_ ,” Izzy told her, heading towards the fiction section of her store. “Or would you prefer some mystery because I know there’s a new batch that came last week.” 

“I haven’t read _Murder on the Orient Express_ actually, would you mind grabbing that for me darling,” Angie called out and Izzy quickly searched before grabbing it from the top shelf and bringing it back towards where she was seated. “I remember it being really popular when it was published and I never got the chance to actually read it then,” Angie shrugged, grabbing the book from Izzy. “Might as well now since you’re more than welcoming of me camping out in your store.”

“For you? Anything and everything,” Izzy gave her a small smile before she heard the bell of the door opening. “I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time, English, I’ll be here all day, run your shop,” Angie called out, getting comfortable on the chair and flipping her book open. 

Izzy shook her head fondly before hurrying to the front where she saw Caleb, one of her tutee’s standing at the desk. 

“The answer’s no, Caleb, before you even bother. That’s an incredibly dumb idea and I will not encourage you to pursue it,” Izzy barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes, stopping in front of the tall junior, and staring him down instead.

“Come on, Miss Black, it’s a daring topic. Weren’t you the one who always told us to go above and beyond and search for context in history that could explain the choices people make?” Caleb pleaded and Izzy rolled her eyes this time. “I mean, the assignment was to find a conspiracy theory that has the probability to be true and to write about it.”

“Yes, _the probability to be true_ . Hitler and Stalin, really? Of all the people to have a secret love affair, you chose the world’s most renowned homophobic dictator’s to be in love? With each other. Not even with anyone else. Hell, I’d even buy into the idea that Hitler fell in love with a Jewish woman and her rejection caused the rise of the Third Reich. _That_ has some plausibility, but Stalin and Hitler? What’re you doing to me, why’re you torturing me with that?” Izzy was exasperated at this point. 

“I would, but Kate’s doing it, and I didn’t want to steal her idea. Come on, Miss Black, just give this a chance. I promise you won’t be this tortured reading it, it might actually make your week,” Caleb came around the desk, taking off his jacket and stuffing his bag underneath the counter. “Please, it’ll be so worth it.”

“Now I understand what all your teachers mean when they say I enable your wild thoughts, Merlin,” Izzy rubbed her forehead tiredly, feeling like she had just aged ten more years. “Is that the only topic you have down? I know I told you to browse for at least five before you narrowed it down to one.”

Caleb shrugged. “Well one of them is about Captain America and the fact that he’s not _really_ dead and is much more of a liberal than those dumb people on _Fox_ say he is.” 

“Who?” Izzy’s brows furrowed in confusion and watched as his brow furrowed.

“Captain America? You don’t know him?” Caleb’s eyes were widened in disbelief. “You have three history kids you help with their essays and you don’t even know who the _Man with the Plan_ is? He was most notoriously known throughout World War II and basically saved us from dying by the Nazis.” He shook his head, his dark long hair falling onto his face, before he pushed it away. “ _Best Tactical Mind of the Twentieth Century_ ? _The World’s First Super Soldier_ ? Miss Black, please say you’re kidding. _Captain America_ , the paragon of truth, justice and liberty! How do you not know this?”

“I must’ve been asleep when they talked about him. Sorry Caleb, but I’m only here to help you, not really in my job description to know about everything you guys do. Just what you need in the moment.” _The history I know is about the Giants and Goblins and Elves and Voldemort but you don’t need to know that._ Izzy shook her head before smiling. “So Stalin and Hitler? Maybe lean into a different direction than a love affair?” 

“Oh _hell_ no, I’m doing it on Captain America now. You need that crash course, and do not search him up, whatever they have on him on the internet isn’t reliable or is completely exaggerated,” Caleb pointed at her and Izzy raised her hands in a placating manner before quirking an eyebrow, highly amused. 

“Isn’t that where you’re getting your information though?” she couldn’t help but chuckle at Caleb’s grimace. “Whatever works for you, Mr. Jensen. Just make sure you turn it in on time. Your last teacher still thinks it’s my fault your art paper was late.” She started walking away before she paused, turning back around. “Why are you here this early anyways? I know you didn’t come all the way over here to plead your case or give me the rundown on ‘Captain America’.” she could feel Caleb rolling his eyes from underneath the counter before popping back out. 

“You had me scheduled since Mack had his baseball tournament in Queens today. Did you not remember that?” He smirked and Izzy glared at him, not bothering to dignify him with an answer as she walked away. “That’s not a yes, Miss Black!”

“I should help you fail for your delinquency, Caleb,” she muttered under her breath, before shouting back, “Just do the job I’m paying you to do!” and got a loud laugh in return. 

“Is that Caleb I heard?” Angie smiled, as Izzy reached her. “He’s such a sweet boy.”

Izzy collapsed on the beanbag by her feet, letting out a loud sigh. “He’s a menace, Angie, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The good ones always are,” she smiled and Izzy let out a huff of laughter. 

“I pray for the person who ends up loving him, they’re in for a real treat. That boy’s brain absolutely does not stop working. There’s always something new he learns everyday and he’s so excitable to share it, too–” Izzy paused, letting out a snort of disbelief, “He’s Hermione. Oh my god, I found another one.”

“Hermio– who dear?” Angie asked, peering curiously from her book. 

“My best friend – _one_ of my best friends growing up. We shared a dormitory at our school and we’re best friends,” she told her with a slight smile. “She’s still in England at the moment, working for the government.” It wasn’t a complete lie, Hermione did work for the government, just not the Muggle one. “Maybe Caleb  will end up doing the same.”

“And how did you end up here then?” 

Izzy let out a huff of air, thinking back to exactly how she did end up here, an American high school tutor and owner of a bookstore. “I wonder the same thing honestly.”

Angie stared at her for a while, long enough  for Izzy to start squirming under her gaze, and gave her a sad smile. “You were running, weren’t you?” It wasn’t a question, despite the way she asked it, and Izzy shrugged. 

“Not intentionally. I didn’t even realize I was until I hadn’t spoken to my family for a year after I’d left. Even then it took a while to admit to myself. My therapist thinks it’s me compartmentalizing my issues from my past so I don’t let it affect my future, but I am inadvertently either way,” she shrugged again. 

“You’re in therapy?” Angie raised her eyebrows, tilting her head as she gazed at Izzy curiously. 

She gave a small smile, “Yeah, my friend Ron suggested it. Thought it would be good for me to talk to someone who could give me some perspective and a different view on things instead of them. I go every two weeks. It’s been helpful here and there.”

“Well I am glad for that darling, that you’re doing okay. Kids nowadays are much better at dealing with their problems than we were,” Angie shrugged, putting her book in her lap at this point. “I know a few people who would’ve benefited from a therapist.”

“Oh?” Izzy looked up at her curiously. 

“My best friend, Peggy. She was a wonderful person, absolutely brilliant and incredibly kind,” Angie said with such fondness, Izzy couldn’t help but grin at her, understanding going through her as she felt the same way about her friends. “She’s still alive, lives in DC at the moment, but she isn’t the same anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” Izzy grabbed her wrinkled hand, giving it a small squeeze before holding it. 

“It’s alright. Anyways, we used to be roommates back when I was still trying to make it as an actress and was known as Angie Martinelli and _oh_ , the things she would get up to, the trouble we would be involved in, those were absolutely memorable,” Angie chuckled. “She was one of those people who had that spark, you know?”

“What kind of spark,” Izzy listened with a new sort of attention, captivated by the twinkle in Angie’s eyes and a new sort of youth flowing off of her. 

“It’s a special kind of thing to have. Like that person was meant to change the world and they would, because she did, and nothing in the world could replicate that kind of spark. Peggy was one of a kind. She lost someone very dear to her in the war, but it didn’t stop her. She just continued to make a difference despite what any of the men she worked with told her otherwise. My Peggy never let a man, or anyone, tell her she couldn’t do something.”

Izzy slightly frowned, staring at Angie bemusedly for a moment before she realized, “you loved her.”

“I did. I do, but she found happiness with someone else so I stayed the best friend through thick and thin,” Angie gave her a sad smile. “There were moments where it felt like she loved me like that as well, but the world wasn’t as easy going during that time and I wasn’t brave enough to love her openly.”

“Did you tell her that? Your Peggy?” Izzy asked, feeling a deep sadness for Angie and Peggy. Her own heart felt a tug, reminding her of her own love lost and unrequited feelings. 

“I knew if I did, Peggy would’ve done everything to make me happy, to make sure our love wasn’t a secret, she was so determined to make the world a good place,” Angie chuckled softly, pushing some of her curls behind her ear, her blue eyes full of longing. “I couldn’t do that to her. She had to change the world, so I never said anything. I married my husband and I love him. We lived a good life and Peggy went on to change the world.” 

Izzy smiled sadly, before taking a deep breath. 

“I used to be the head of an elite team for my department, back home, in England. Probably the youngest ever to lead a group of people who had spent years getting to where they are now, but according to everyone I had earned it, and their trust in me to be a good leader,” Izzy sighed, pushing her hair back with one hand, her lips tightened as she remembered arguing that she didn’t need this, that anyone else was more qualified and probably ready for it. “I didn’t want the job but my friends and family pressured me into it. They said I was good at it, so I should play to my strengths. They didn’t really realize that I didn’t actually want it. My fault for not saying anything. I think they thought I was just being coy, or humble, and eventually I gave in, believing maybe… I could be good enough.”

“And were you?” Angie looked at her with such kindness, Izzy felt her throat closed up a little. 

“I tried to be. Two of my best friends worked with me, Ron and Harry, and we were really good. Putting away the bad guys, and keeping the Mu- _civilians_ safe. They didn’t know that I wasn’t happy, that I was going down on a spiral and just pushing back my feelings until our last mission. Eight people died, two of them were my own and I just couldn’t,” Izzy could remember everything leading up to the ambush. Almost losing Harry and Carla, seeing Dennis get hit in the chest and then nothing else. It was like she was back at Hogwarts, fighting for her life, trying to keep everyone safe and failing. _Seeing Colin Creevey’s little body and watching Cedric die in front of her_. She didn’t remember anything until she woke up two weeks later in the hospital and Harry, slumped over her bed, tired and dark circles under his eyes, clutching her hand in a vice grip. She remembered waking up again, and hearing Sirius and Ron arguing with Shacklebolt about the mission and that they needed her account of what happened and them refusing to let him in until she was completely healed. Heard them discuss how to tell her that eight people had died, and she begged herself to remember what happened. She remembered sneaking out a few days later and leaving a short note:

 

> _I’m sorry. I quit._

 

She disappeared for six months before she sent a short letter to Harry that she was alive and then nothing else for another eight months until she got to New York. 

She was deep into her spiraling as her therapist liked to tell her and almost missed Angie’s next words, “Is that when you ran?”

“Yeah, until I got here. Ran into this guy, literally, and we had a drink, I took him back to where I was living at that time.  We ended up talking of all things. He gave me some perspective and I ended up staying,” she shrugged like that man hadn’t just given her perspective but basically told her she was a coward and to get the help she knew she needed. “I haven’t seen him since then, and I’d be happy not to. He seemed like the type to enjoy saying ‘ _I told you so_ ’.”

Angie gave Izzy’s hand a squeeze this time, her delicate hand had a strong grip which she appreciated in this moment. They were so lost in their own conversation, they didn’t even notice that the shop was buzzing with people and that it was noon already. 

“Well, we’ve certainly chatted up a storm this morning,” Izzy joked, removing her hand from Angie’s before grabbing onto the armrest to help her stand up.

“Elizabeth,” Angie said, before Izzy could move away. 

“Yes, Angie?” Izzy looked down at her, catching the old woman’s empathetic gaze as she gave Izzy a motherly smile before gripping her hand once more. 

“You remind me of Peggy,” Angie smiled at Izzy’s surprised expression, giving her hand a small squeeze before letting go. “She lost people too, and there were many times I’m pretty sure she wanted to give up, but she didn’t. You shouldn’t either, you have that spark, darling. Maybe it’s an English thing,” she mused carefully. 

“I don’t know if I could,” Izzy replied honestly. 

“You won’t know until you try. Some of us were meant for more, and when we have that power, that gift, the _spark_ to do it, we shouldn’t let it go to waste darling,” Angie gave her a knowing look, and for a moment Izzy was stricken with the thought that Angie knew her secret, or had some semblance of it, before the idea gave way to some comfort that she would have someone in her corner. “Do what you can to change this world. I know you can, _you_ were meant for more than this.”

“If I didn’t know any better, you were recruiting me for something Angie,” Izzy teased, a small smile playing around her lips as she watched Angie laugh loudly, catching the attention of some of the people around them. 

“Well, maybe I just want you to take over the world with me,” Angie joked and Izzy shrugged. 

“I’ll join that plan,” she joked before giving Angie one last smile. “I’ve got to go check around, see if Caleb’s doing alright. I’ll check in with you later? I’m going to want some more stories from you, Angie.”

“Anytime, English. Just bring me some coffee when you do; my husband won’t let me have anymore. Says it’s no good for me to drink it at this age. What does he know?”

“Will do,” Izzy gave her one last smile before making her way to the front. Caleb had his laptop out, typing furiously as people milled around him, browsing some books and artifacts or playing the games Izzy had put out. 

Her shop was something she was incredibly proud of, transforming the old, dilapidated building into a worthwhile bookstore. Of course, having magic on her side had kept the expenses on the low, not that anyone needed to know that. It wasn’t a particularly hard decision either;  after happening upon the old two-story building while she was still trying to get used to New York’s trains and routes, she saw its potential. 

It hadn’t caught her attention immediately but it certainly made her do a double take; the crumbling roof, the large dirty windows, the brick lining on the outside, and the red FOR SALE sign on the window along with a phone number beneath it. Izzy hadn’t even bothered to continue her exploration that day, dialing the phone number immediately and touring the house two hours later with the agent. The building’s inside wasn’t much better off from the outside, but Izzy couldn’t help but smile at it. Built in the 20’s, it was still standing after all that time with the brick working along one whole wall of both floors, and grey walls on the first floor that she was pretty sure were yellow at some point, and old peeling flowery wallpaper on the second. She’d told the agent she wanted to buy it immediately. 

A week later, Elizabeth Black was the owner of the dilapidating building and began working to repair it as soon as she had the keys. It had taken her about a month to get it fixed up, and had been good practice after not using her magic for the better part of 3 years. It had been a good couple of weeks, figuring out what to do with said building after it was complete. One random conversation at the bar, and Izzy had ended up stewing on the idea of a library of sorts; her travels certainly had given her a lot of books and knick knacks that would be interesting to Muggles, and it would be better than moving in there; she shuddered to think of herself in such a large building alone. 

She came out of her musings when someone brushed past her, shaking herself back to the present. She needed to grab some coffee for Angie and tidy up before she had to leave. Stepping towards the back to where her office was, Izzy started the machine up. It wasn’t long before the small office was filled with the scent of roasted beans, her shoulders relaxing before she even realized they were tensed up. She waited while the pot filled up, relishing the quiet humdrum of the morning, before she realized that she didn’t know how Angie wanted her coffee. Quickly opening the door and closing it behind her, Izzy bumped hard into a person, one hand grabbing the door knob behind her and the other grabbing the man’s arm.

“I am so sorry!” they both exclaimed at the same time. “No it’s alright!”

“Wait–” they said again before staring at each other with wide eyes. “Let me––”

“Merlin–”

“Jesus–” 

“I’m sorry–”

“–I wasn’t watching where I was going–”

“–I wasn’t paying attention–”

“–just looking for the bathroom and–”

“–I should’ve been more careful–”

“–the kid pointed to the back–”

“–it’s actually the door on the other side–”

“–the lack of sign should’ve been a big clue ”

“–people confuse it a bit, so no need for apologizing–”

“–I’m Clint by the way. Clint Barton.” 

“Clint,” Izzy nodded, stopping the overlapping conversation. “Nice to meet you.”

“Again, so sorry about that, I wasn’t really paying attention, which is like a major oversight on my part,” the man - Clint - said. Izzy gave him a reassuring smile, getting a bright grin in return.  

“It’s alright. I wasn’t paying attention either, so we’re on common ground,” she replied. “Bathroom’s are down there.” Izzy pointed to the other side. 

“Thanks,” Clint chuckled sheepishly. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know who Elizabeth is? I'm looking for her, she’s the owner?” 

Izzy frowned slightly. “That’d be me. Why, is everything alright?

“Everything’s fine, actually. It’d be better if you said yes.” He smiled at her, a knowing look in his milky blue eyes. Izzy dropped her smile, her shoulders tensing immediately. 

“Fury sent you.” She said flatly, before moving away from him.

“Well, yes! I mean he meant to wait for another few weeks, but I figured why wait, you know?” She heard him say behind her but Izzy was too annoyed to look back and respond. Instead she continued to ignore him by going through the motions of picking up discarded or misplaced books and putting them back. 

“How is a person supposed to think about agreeing to a job when it’s barely been a whole month? Especially if it’s a job that requires you to put your neck on the line every time you step out?” She hissed, slamming a book back hard enough to rattle the shelf.

“Hey, if you could actually look at me when you talk, it’ll make this easier. I need to look at your lips,” Cli- _Barton_ said. 

Izzy whirled around in indignation, letting out a loud, “ _Excuse me_?!”

“Oh, I just meant, so I can read your lips. Cause I’m deaf?” He gave her a self-conscious smile, tapping his ears, and Izzy noticed the bright purple devices on top of his ears for the first time and felt a wave of embarrassment. 

She knew her face was pink, if Barton’s smile was anything to go by. “I don’t mean to embarrass you.” At Izzy’s raised eyebrow, he shrugged and added, “Well, not completely at least. It’s always a kicker to see people get all flustered.”

“You must be the life of the party,” she said dryly, leaning against the tall shelves, making sure Barton could see her face. “You said Fury didn’t send you? Why’re you here then?”

“I read your file. Well the file that Fury gave us, but also the file he had hidden away in his office, which I have to tell you was pretty easy to get into,” she watched as he looked around, eyes darting all around with the alertness only someone who’s been in the field has, despite the easy nature of his grin and body _(Seems Fury isn’t the only paranoid bastard)_. “Either I’m getting good, or he’s getting old. Could be both.”

“Or maybe he meant for you to find it, seeing as you’re incredibly nosy,” she responded. “Fury doesn’t seem the type to do anything without a purpose in his life.”

“Y’know, Nat said the exact same thing,” he pointed at her, before hoisting himself up on one of the shelves in a smooth movement, Izzy’s eyes wide as she stared at him. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. You might get along, or you might kill each other. Either way, I’m terrified.”

“What a conundrum, but my main concern isn't really them,” she amended, “at the moment. What the hell are you doing there, mate?”

“Ooh, mate. That’s fancy. You should get up here, the view isn’t that bad.”

Izzy just stared at him in disbelief, unable to believe someone like him was actually having a conversation with her. He just folded himself on top of the bookshelves and was watching her like what he did was absolutely normal and Izzy lightly shook her head. 

“You’re getting off track Barton,” she said, before grabbing one of the shelves herself and hoisting herself across from him (and if she used a bit of magic, well only she needed to know that) and crossing her legs together to stare at him as well. She couldn’t help but feel amused as he stared at her in surprise. 

“Huh, I expected that to go a bit differently,” Barton mused as he watched Izzy make herself comfortable on top of the shelf.

She shrugged. “Well, it’s my shop, so I think I can do what I like. Anyways, why are you here?”

She met his stare head-on, watching the mischievous spark fade into something serious, letting Izzy see exactly what was behind the bumbling, chatty man for just a small moment. 

“I read your file. It’s pretty interesting, despite the fact that 90% of it is redacted and that was the one I got from Fury. You did good, you’d be a good addition to SHIELD and I’m trying to understand why someone like you, someone who’s done so much good for this world, is taking so long to decide if they want to keep doing it.” Izzy felt her face heat up with the insinuation of what he said and pursed her lips. _He doesn’t know, doesn’t understand._ Barton continued on. “We all got reasons why we shouldn’t do what we do, we’re all pretty fucked up. Doesn’t change that everyday, we’re making a difference. A good difference.”

“You know nothing about me. You said it yourself, half my file is redacted. For all you know, it’s all blundered up,” she pointed out, resting her head on her hand. She watched as Barton spread himself out, letting his legs dangle in front of the books, resting the rest of his body on his arms. 

“Could be. But I’ve worked with Fury long enough to know he doesn’t do things lightly. Ever. I don’t think the man even makes a cup of coffee if it doesn’t help his day. Which is ridiculous, because it’s coffee. How can anyone not have it all the time?” 

Izzy shook her head. “It’s not that simple. There are certain facts, _factors,_ that I can’t just ignore because you think the world needs more people doing it good than harm.” 

She could feel Barton staring at her, and decided to focus on the chatter behind them while he stayed quiet. “You won’t know you’re helping if you don’t give it a shot. Can’t let the red in our ledger stop us from doing what’s right.” 

“Being right is often a subjective point,” Izzy gave him a wry smile. She carefully edged herself off the stand, making the small jump down and scaring a kid at her appearance. “I appreciate the sell, Clint, but tell Fury my answer is still no,” before walking back to the front and exiting the shop. She could feel Caleb’s eyes staring at her abrupt departure but didn’t really care to explain. She needed some space. 

She ended up at Prospect Park, just wandering around and not really paying attention to anything. Her mind stayed carefully blank, not allowing itself to think of anything more than comments and tidbits of her surroundings. How she missed her nomad days, when staying in a place longer than 6 weeks was too uncomfortable for her; it wasn’t a good way to live but Izzy liked to think of it as an opportunity to see the world and learn about the different magic in different cultures. That’s what her postcards said, never sent from the place she was staying until it was time for her departure; she couldn’t have them coming to her and bringing her back home. 

Her eyes caught a couple across from her, just sharing space with each other on the bench and not noticing anyone else around them. She missed that, having someone and it’d been so long since she’d had any intimacy that wasn’t strictly sexual that Izzy wasn’t even sure how it felt to be just held anymore. The last person to hold her like that had been Harry and she had run away like the coward she was before anything else. Rubbing her eyes at her own intrusive thoughts, Izzy quickly left the area, not wanting to go down that path of problems right now. She walked aimlessly after that, not noticing the sun setting and the life around her changing. It was dark before she realized that she should go home and remembered that her keys and everything else was in the shop. She could use magic to get into her flat, but her phone and wallet would still be there, so with a heavy sigh, she walked back to the bookstore. 

The silent trek from Red Hook ( _when had she gotten there?_ ) back to Park Slope was longer than she thought it would be, but she managed easily enough. She knew the shop was closed already, so a quick mutter of  “ _Alohomora_ ” had her entering with ease and locking it back up. She was looking around for where she would've left her bag, when a quick knock on the glass door had her reaching for her wand and pointing it at the door.

Izzy blinked, her eyes widening in surprise at the person standing in front of the door. Someone she didn’t expect to see at midnight in Brooklyn at her bookstore. 

“ _Hermione_?”

Hermione gave a slight wave, her lips curled in a small smile as she stared at Izzy; her own eyes were greedily drinking up the sight of a best friend she hadn’t seen in ages. “Are you going to let me in?” 

Izzy shook herself out of her stupor and shoving her wand in her pocket, before unlocking the door quickly. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Malaysia bringing elf-rights to the ministry there?”

“You keep track of me?” Hermione gave her a surprised but pleased smile as she walked into the building. “I thought you were all but recluse from magic, but imagine my surprise that you’re not only actively using it, but practicing the old ways?”

Izzy felt herself fumble for a response before the rest of the sentence sunk in. 

“For the record, I’m not tracking you, it was in the paper. I’m just keeping in check of what I have. I don’t hate magic; it’s saved my life on numerous occasions. Be a bit hypocritical of me to hate the thing that saved me the most.” Izzy rolled her eyes, it felt like old times again. 

Hermione shrugged, like she had expected it, but Izzy could still see the curiosity burning in those eyes and waited for the onslaught of questions that would surely pour from her inquisitive best friend. She watched as Hermione removed a light jacket from her frame and left it on the counter.

It really was a sign of growth when the other witch just smiled and turned around, walking around the shop and taking everything in. Izzy watched warily, unable to hide her life now that it was out in the open for her to see. “I like this. I never really believed Harry when he told me you had a bookstore of all things to keep you occupied here. The eleven year old in me is screaming in joy.”

Izzy just sighed before leaning against the counter, feeling more tired than she had all day. “Hermione, what are you doing here? Should I be expecting the others soon as well?”

“Don’t worry, I’m here for unofficial business with MACUSA and I thought I’d stop by and see my best friend,” Hermione kept on walking, the shop otherwise silent as she did. “ _Who_ , for the record, I haven’t seen in years now.”

Izzy grimaced, feeling an awful lot like a shit of a person for being so crass at her, but Hermione obviously wasn’t done. “I mean, how inconsiderate of me, to not send a letter before arriving, just absolutely horrible of me.”

“Well I see the years haven’t changed you much,” Izzy drawled, feeling a tinge of annoyance at her friend’s dramatics. “I got the package you guys sent me.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows, waiting for Izzy to continue it seemed. She sighed before running a hand through her hair, the bushy hair of her teenage years now tamed into soft curls but still managed to look wild. “I’m guessing you haven’t opened it yet?” 

Izzy shook her head, non knowing how to say that most of the time she shoved the packages they sent her in the closet. “I was here to take it home actually, opening in the privacy of my own flat and all.” 

“Hmm.” Hermione observed her for a moment, before her eyes took in the shop. “You know, of all things, I never expected you to own a bookstore. Maybe a weapons store, or teaching at Ilvermorny.”

Izzy rolled her eyes again; they definitely were going to get stuck this way now. “Well you know me ‘Mione. I like to defy expectations.”

“More like hide from them.” 

The silence that followed after that felt suffocating. Izzy could feel the guilt settle in her stomach and let out a shuddering breath. Hermione turned to face her, her cheeks red and eyes downcast as she apologized, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“It’s true.” Izzy gave her a sad smile. “I ran away from them. You guys expected me to be there, to be your friend and help you and I ran off.”

“We didn’t begrudge you your escape Izzy,” Hermione’s voice took on a softer tone. “Well, after we were done getting mad about it. We understood; I just wished you hadn’t done it like that.” 

Izzy sighed, it felt like all her energy was drained and she just wanted to drown in coffee or 70 years of sleep. Whichever happened first. Or both. Both would be good. 

“Well, we change Hermione. It happens, this is who I am now. Bookstore owner. I’m _happy_ ,” she tried to put extra emphasis on the last phrase. She was. She was happy. 

“The Izzy I know always fought back, she stood up for people even when she was terrified and never sat back to let everyone else clean up messes by themselves,” Hermione shot back. “She was happy doing that too. You loved to fight Izzy. You’ve been protecting people since you could and I would know; I was one of the people you stood up for when you were terrified of standing up for yourself.”

“I wasn’t terrified for myself,” she muttered petulantly. “And that was the old me. I don’t love it anymore.” 

This time it was Hermione who rolled her eyes. 

“Yes, you do. You ran because you made a mistake and it hurt. You couldn’t protect the people who were yours to protect Iz. And maybe it was our fault too, for not noticing you were suffering still from losing Cedric but you weren’t done Izzy. Not by a long shot.” Hermione walked closer to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. Izzy looked away from her knowing brown eyes. “We need you back.”

“I’m not going back to England, Hermione. It’s not home anymore,” Izzy shook her head. 

“Then where? You plan on running this bookstore for the rest of your life? You need to get back out there,” she said, her grip tightening on her shoulder. “If not here, then where?”

“There’s this facility, called SHIELD. They want me.”

Hermione nodded slowly. “I’ve heard of it. Kingsley mentioned it a few times. Are you considering it?”

“You know, most people tend to tell you to stop fighting, to retire and such,” Izzy pointed out with a wry smile. “You’d be a horrible therapist.”

“Well, lucky for both of us, that’s not my day job.” Hermione smirked, before giving Izzy a softer smile. “We both know retiring isn’t something you wanted. Maybe not to lead a team, but you’re a fighter, Izzy Black. It may not be all you know, but it’s what you love doing best. I just want you to stop hiding yourself from what you want.”

“And how do you know what I want?” she asked, shrugging off Hermione’s hand. “What if this bookstore is exactly what I want?”

“You might want it, but it’s not what you need. I know, because I’m a fighter too,” Hermione just leaned against the counter, staring at Izzy with such practiced ease, that Izzy was taken aback for a moment that this person who was her best friend had also become a stranger to her. “I might fight a bit differently than you, but I do fight. We _all_ do. It’s who we are.”

Izzy just stared at her, with slight awe and sadness. She wasn’t wrong, they were fighters. They fought for most of their lives, but did they still have to? She voiced that outloud and watched as Hermione’s brows furrowed in contemplation. 

“No, I guess we don’t,” she shrugged. “But what else is there left for fighters like us to do? It’s in our blood.”

Izzy nodded. It is. All her choices; getting drunk, random hook-ups and running a bookstore of all things, they weren’t her. They were never her, Izzy might’ve been the quietest of the group, but by no means was she silent. She fought, when she was in the orphanage for a chance, she fought when she got to Hogwarts to show them she belonged, she fought for her father when she learned the truth, she fought for Harry, Ron and Hermione no matter what. She always fought because she could and she would protect her family. She fought everyday to show that she wasn’t her family’s history. 

“I don’t know how to get back in,” she whispered. Where would she start, how would she start again. She couldn’t dive right back in, that would be a disaster. 

“Well, you could start with SHIELD. They seem to want you,” Hermione pointed out, and Izzy pursed her lips. “That’s an option if you don’t want to come back home.”

“I might,” Izzy looked at her. Her best friend, somehow she had become even more ruthlessly efficient since they had graduated. Yet, Izzy couldn’t help but smile that she was still the same person, no time for coddling or sugar-coating things. Straight facts and logic as always. “You haven’t changed a bit Hermione.”

She gave her a genuine smile, reminding Izzy of the fifteen year old girl once more. “And you have. Still are my best friend you know.”

Izzy this time made the move, walking close enough to embrace the short brunette and feeling something in her chest settle when Hermione’s arms wrapped around her back. “I’ve missed you a lot.” Izzy mumbled into her hair

“We missed you too. Iz,” she heard her mutter back. “All the time. Maybe visit us soon? Or we can come here if that’s alright? I know Harry’s been all about giving you space here…”

Izzy nodded. She liked the idea of them maybe visiting her and visiting them… but not yet. “Maybe someday,” she conceded. She loosened herself from Hermione’s embrace and watched as the smaller witch gave her a knowing look. 

“I’ll let them know you’re a bit more open to communications now?” she inquired and Izzy nodded her assent. “Alright, I do have to get back though, I’ve got to leave in about an hour from now.”

“Tell Harry… I miss him too?” Izzy added as Hermione made a move to leave. “And the whole lot as well.”

“I will.”

Hermione grabbed her jacket, putting it on before pausing, one hand hanging out as she had just remembered something. “Do open the box soon. There’s something in there that you might appreciate.”

Izzy furrowed her brows, tilting her head at Hermione curiously. “What do you mean?”

“I know about the magic, Izzy. And it’s dangerous and illegal for a reason, but I also know that you won’t stop trying so just… be careful.” Hermione finished putting on her jacket and gave Izzy a stern look. “There’s a book in there, it should help you mask the magic in public so MACUSA or the Ministry don’t show up knocking on your door.”

“I’m assuming this is all illegal as well?” Izzy couldn’t help but smirk at her friend’s information- she’s always thought that, for all her bluster about getting into trouble, Hermione loved breaking the rules more than anyone. “And dangerous?”

“Of course it is!” she said exasperatedly, as if Izzy should’ve known better. Well she does, but that doesn’t change anything. “But you’re you. And I’d rather you be safe and not in prison for doing stupid things. So, hence the book.”

Izzy couldn’t help but feel extremely fond for her friend. Hermione might’ve not been the most physically affectionate person, but she sure made up for it in so many different ways. “I’ll be careful. Plus, I’m practicing and I am getting better.”

“MACUSA has been getting weird surges of energy from Brooklyn lately. It’s why I’m here. They wanted to make sure it wasn’t anything related to the new Magical Creatures law. Turns out, just one stupid witch who doesn’t know how to cover her tracks.”

“Congrats on that passing, by the way.” She smiled, before giving a shrug, knowing that she had no excuse for being so careless. “I’ll be careful from now on, but Hermione, if done right, this could potentially unlock so many secrets and powers that we didn’t think possible. There’s more to the history of wandless magic than we know. _More_ than what they tell us. Trust me.”

“I do.” 

Izzy felt a warm sensation go through her body at Hermione’s words, the lack of hesitation and conviction she said it with, it made her realize how much she missed having people who trusted her and vice versa. 

“Just don’t get caught. I can only protect you so much,” she warned. Izzy understood where she was coming from; her job allowed her the freedom to hide Izzy, but as long as she stayed under the radar about what she was doing. Even Hermione couldn’t protect her if they wanted Izzy locked up. 

“I’ll be careful,” she promised. “Keep an eye out for my letter?”

Izzy was done talking about it now, and thankfully Hermione got the hint. Taking Izzy’s letter comment as goodbye and walked out. “I’ll see you soon then, Izzy.” 

She turned around and with a small _pop_ she was gone. Izzy stared at the place she had stood, feeling the small pit of loneliness creep back that she didn’t even notice it had gone until now. _God, she needed to get some new friends._ Shaking her head, she went back where she had left the box. Giving it a tap, Izzy decided to just shrink it for now. 

She put her hand on it, concentrating on finding the small bubble of energy coursing inside her and took a deep breath. “ _Diminuendo_ ,” she whispered and watched as the same silver tendrils came out and shook the box until it was small and light enough to fit in her palm. Izzy felt herself smile, knowing that still using magic without her wand caused her to crash easily, but it was worth the effort. She’ll get there. Stuffing the box into the bag she found behind the desk chair, she decided to forgo the train home and disappears with a _pop!_ of her own. 

Standing in her living room after apparating home, she nearly forgot about her alarm until a small blinking light reminds her for the code and she hurriedly typed it in. Annoyingly loud and potentially harrowing alarm avoided, her feet lead her towards the small bookcase she keeps in her apartment, staring at the faces of her friends from Hogwarts. Of all the memories she made, all the people that still miss her and haven’t stopped trying to reach her; despite everything they want her to be a part of their lives. Hell, she’s godmother to Harry’s kid and the last time she saw him was when he was born. 

Her eyes draw over to the picture of her father, his smirk a mirror of her own, and her heart turned over painfully; when was the last time she let him know she was okay, that she missed him, too? They all understood when Izzy left, let her be while she went everywhere and anywhere and stayed  away from everyone. Now she’s settled and has a life, so what’s stopping her? 

Thinking back to what Hermione told her, Izzy couldn’t help but grimace, knowing her best friend had a point in telling her everything she didn’t want to hear. She might’ve been out of touch with the world, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t use her help. It didn’t mean that she couldn’t still fight to protect people like she used to. The world might still continue to run without her, but maybe helping it would still make a difference.  

_But it did, your family needed you and you weren’t there to help. So much bad happens that no Muggle is aware of, you need to do something again. Help them with the bigger picture. Don’t let the world continue completely oblivious._

Izzy let out a shuddering breath, before reaching in her pocket and pulling out her phone, running to her bag and digging the card out. 

“Damn you, Hermione,” she muttered, as she heard the phone ring. She was about to hang up, when it finally connected.

“Fury,” said a gruff voice on the other end and Izzy let out a silent curse. 

Taking a deep breath, “Director Fury, it’s Elizabeth Black. I’m in.” There was a long pause, Izzy had to check to see if he hadn’t hung up before she heard him speak, making her pout. 

“Agent Barton got to you, didn’t he?” he sounded far too pleased for one of his agents doing something supposedly unauthorized. 

“No, an old friend, actually” she smiled slightly, still reeling from seeing Hermione. 

“Well, I’ll be sure to send in a fruit basket to this old friend. See you on Monday, 0800 sharp.” Then he actually did hang up and Izzy rolled her eyes; she was working for such dramatic people. A chirp on her phone made her look down, rolling her eyes at the text. 

 

 

 

 

> **Unknown Number:** _See you Monday, Agent :)_
> 
>   
>  **Unknown Number:** _IT’S CLINT BY THE WAY HI!_
> 
>  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's a been a minute since I've posted but thank you to anyone and everyone who gave this story a chance! Love all of you!  
> Find me on [my tumblr](https://everythingstucky.tumblr.com/)  
> Big shout-out to this [awesome beta!](https://jackdaws45.tumblr.com/%22) I adore you dude. 
> 
> Your love and comments keep me going! 
> 
> And thanks again to anyone who's been patient with my horrible updating skills, sorry!


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